


They will not control us (We will be victorious)

by kappa77



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Betrayal, Character Death, Fake AH Crew, GTA!verse, Gen, Michael's Heist!AU, POV Alternating, Revenge, what if...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-04
Updated: 2014-06-04
Packaged: 2018-01-26 10:14:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1684667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kappa77/pseuds/kappa77
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if the bank hadn't been closed?<br/>What if Ryan and Ray hadn't died early on?<br/>What if they had had a plan?<br/>What if?</p>
            </blockquote>





	They will not control us (We will be victorious)

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Uprising" by Muse
> 
> I'd like to thank anyone who has ever made a Fake AH Crew playlist, as I have probably listened to that multiple times whilst writing this.
> 
> Also I'd like to thank my lovely betas, [Abbey](http://imaginedecember.tumblr.com/) and Miho.

"Alright guys," Michael said, rubbing his hands together as he watched his crew move around his apartment, "Don't forget Plan A."

Geoff poked his head out of the fridge, "Michael, I'm always in Plan A." He grabbed one of the bottles of beer and tossed it to Michael, "Catch!"

The heist leader caught the brewski easily, popping it open with a flick of the wrist. He sat down on the cream couch, next to Ray, who was trying to find his lighter to light up the garishly colored bong he somehow always managed to have with him before a heist. Geoff sat on the other side of the Puerto Rican, beer bottle already open and most of it already drank. Kerry was opposite of Michael, his open bottle on the coffee table (without a coaster, the heathen), looking over the notes he had taken before.

“This has got to be one of the best heist beginnings ever!” Gavin remarked from the kitchen counter where he was sipping on some of Michael’s best wine.

“Mmm, yeah,” Michael said, taking another swig.

Gavin took another long drink, almost choking as he enthusiastically exclaimed, “Man this is some good wine. I’m going to get absolutely smashed!”

Michael grinned at his friend.

“Thank fuck you’re with me for this heist,” he thought silently, “You’re going to be my fucking sanity for this thing. Besides, no one I’d rather go down with than my boi.”

“That’s why we’re getting bevved up two days before the heist: one day to get over our hangover and one for the heist.” he replied.

“That’s bloody brilliant Michael!”

“I am bloody brilliant, Gavin.” He turned toward the kitchen, looking at the only man who wasn’t getting drunk or high. Even with the mask on, Michael could see Ryan’s gaze was unfocused, as if he was thinking hard on something.

"Ryan!” Michael exclaimed, visibly jolting Ryan from his thoughts, “You going to join us or are you going to stand around drinking juice!"

Ryan looked up from the counter, slipping his cool demeanor back on. "You're looking low on the good stuff. I've got some in my car." He held up his keys and jingled them. He straightened up and ignoring Michael’s protests, walked to the door. He paused, almost around the kitchen counter when he asked, "Ray, you wanna help?"

The man in question looked up, his found lighter in hand. "Just one hit?"

The masked man rolled his eyes. "No, you won't be able to function with 'just one hit'. Come on, the stuff I got is better than whatever weed you got from the alley across the street," Ryan said as he went toward the exit. Ray was quickly up on his feet and following him with protests of the quality of the weed he bought.  
When they got outside the apartment with Ray rambling still about weed and bong quality, Ryan turned the corner towards the stairs. When they were out of sight of Michael's apartment, he grabbed the younger man and dragged him into a secluded corner with several potted plants.

"Ow, what the fuck was that for?!" Ray exclaimed.

"Shhhhh!" Ryan pressed a finger against his lips. He glanced around then when he was sure there was no one near them, he lowered his finger. Another pause, and with slight hesitance, he ripped off his mask. Running a hand through his golden hair, Ray couldn’t help but realize that this was the first time he had ever seen Ryan, the “Mad King of Los Santos”, frazzled. He was usually the most calm under pressure, but now he seemed on edge and almost worried. Even more disconcerting, was that this was the first time Ryan had ever taken his mask off when he wasn’t eating, drinking, or bathing.

The younger man was snapped out of his thoughts when Ryan whispered, "They're planning to kill us, aren't they?"

Ray was silent for a moment. How on Earth had Ryan gotten that idea? They had just left the room where the entire crew had been joking around like usual. And the heist plans weren’t anything out of the ordinary; try not to get killed but know that there is always the possibility. Ryan must have hit his head too hard on the last job.

Ray stared incredulously at his partner. "Are you insane? Why would you even think that?"

"Just look at the facts! One, the transfer vehicle is parked in the middle of nowhere, so it’d be easy to knock us off. Two, Michael kept saying ‘should you survive’ and 'should they be alive'. Three, when I asked about the boat, he responded with absolute bullshit. And four, we were the loose cannons last time, so of course they would want us gone more than anyone!"

"Hey, that last reason was all your fault!" Ray pointed out, crossing his arms.

"Well, you're the one who was going to knock me out and run with the money!"

"But you were going to do it as well! And you did it to Geoff on the first heist!"

"But- alright, forget it,” Ryan had backed up a few steps now. He closed his eyes briefly, collecting himself. When he opened them, there was a new determination there. “Point is that they're not planning on leaving us unconscious on the side of the road, waiting to be picked up by the cops this time. Michael wants us dead and his best option is to rig the car at the airport to explode."

Ray was still dubious. These guys where their friends- well, partners more like. But still, the Fake AH Crew wasn’t one to backstab each other.

But Ryan did have a point.

He uncrossed his arms, "Well, even if you’re right, what are we gonna do?"

Ryan grinned, all teeth and no mercy; his previous nervousness vanished like Ray’s complete trust in Fake AH Crew.

"I have a plan, one that will keep us alive and prove to you that I’m right."

“Then lay it on me!”

By the time the two had returned to the apartment, they each had a six pack in hand (the good stuff) and a plan in their heads.

Ray thanked whatever god there was that the other guys were too drunk to notice his slight anxiety that he couldn’t keep off of his face.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Michael pulled over the Bifta, parking it on top of the mountain. He stepped out, taking in a deep breath. Everything was going perfectly; the prep had been going quickly, the bank was open, and no one suspected what the real heist actually entailed. Everything was going to plan.

He pressed his finger to his modified headset.

“Okay, where is everyone now?”

“I just parked the car at the airstrip for Ryan and Ray,” Geoff said.

“I’m flying to Geoff,” Kerry said, voice muffled from the whirring of the helicopter blades.

Michael silently nodded to himself, “Good, good. Where are you Gavin?”

“I’m- I’m- Bollocks... I’m driving to you, Michael.”

Michael rolled his eyes, obviously hoping that the trouble Gavin was getting himself into wouldn’t send him to prison before the heist even managed to begin. He sighed in exasperation, “Don’t kill yourself yet. Where are you Ryan? Ray?”

“Waiting for Ray at the mask shop. Guess I might as well get a head start on shopping before he gets here,” Ryan said, turning toward the brightly colored kiosk.

“And I, uh, can’t find the mask shop cause I’m,” Ray paused, realizing how hard it was to lie on the spot, “dumb.”

“Okay, just finish your shopping in 20 minutes. ET for heist is in 30.”

“Got it boss man. Over and out,” Ray said, pulling his finger away from the headset. He sighed before picking up his pace. Lying had never been his strong point, but according to Ryan, it was crucial for Ray to go all the way to the auto-body shop, hack in to see Geoff’s receipt, see that there was something done to the car (“I’m not sure where, but it would be easiest for them to put a bomb in the car first and then have us blow up.”) and then go all the way back to the mask shop and pretend like nothing had happened.

“Motherfucker probably just wants to make sure I won’t double cross him… that psychopath,” Ray thought.

But the concern was well met because even after Ryan explained his rationale and crazy plan, Ray still wasn’t completely convinced. There was no way that Michael, the guy who had helped him initially get into the Fake AH Crew and survive their crazy initiation, could have it out for him not to mention Ryan. He was pretty sure that Michael didn’t have the balls to try and kill the Mad King. The man who somehow managed to single-handedly get away with the money (except for last time, good going self on not getting shot) every single mission. The man known for his mercilessness when it came to killing cops, when killing civilians, when killing anything. The man who, up until yesterday, Ray had never seen the face of because he never took off his goddamn skull mask.

Ray shook off his doubtful thoughts and broke into a full sprint, pushing past other pedestrians. It was only when he saw the concrete building and the faded letters of “Los Santos Customs” did he slow down. Pulling out his pistol just in case, he entered the auto-body shop.

His nose wrinkled at the pungent scent of gasoline and spray paint. He glanced around, glad that there were no civilians getting their car fixed up just now. The only occupant was one person behind the counter, who Ray had no trouble pistol whipping in the back of the head, soundly knocking him out. He shoved the body aside and went over to the main office, located behind a wooden door covered in paint.

The office looked nothing like the garage. Wood panels covered the bottom half of the walls and smooth drywall finished off the top half. The carpet reminded him of the carpet back at his apartment: dark enough to hide stains (not that this one had any), shaggy enough to get your toenails caught on if you let them grow just a bit too long, and way more expensive than anything Ray could legally buy. He almost felt bad for walking in with his dirty-ass flip flops.

Almost.

Not wasting any more time, he walked around the large, dark oak desk (a carbon copy of the one Geoff used to conduct business in, although Geoff’s was custom made to withstand his pounding fist) and sat in the dark brown leather chair that was in front of the computer. He was no hacker (that was Caleb’s job mostly), but Ryan had had the foresight to give him a USB with just about every password decoder Ray could need.

He turned on the Mac, pulled out the USB and connected it to the port, only having to flip it once. With that done, it was easy going, bypassing all the security features. Now all he had to do was find where the records for receipts were.

It only took a couple minutes of digging to find the file he was looking for.

“Now,” Ray mumbled to himself, “Which one of you is Geoff?”

On the screen were 12 different receipts from today, none of which had “Ramsey, Geoff” anywhere. He knew Geoff wasn’t stupid enough to use his own name when it came to prepping for heists, so he unwillingly braced himself for the task of looking through each receipt.

Thankfully, it only took 2 receipts for Ray to stumble upon one for a Karin Rebel Off-Road, which had bought a shit ton of armor and an ignition bomb. The receipt was made out to Fink, Joseph, but the cashier had scribbled a note, saying that the customer had been “suspicious. had a mob moustache. I think we should call the cops, boss”.

There was no way that wasn’t Geoff.

Ray stared at the bright screen, foolishly hoping if he stared long enough, the words “Ignition bomb -$4750” would disappear.

But they didn’t.

He lowered his head into his palms.

Had it all meant nothing? Was a couple thousand dollars all that it took for Michael to resort to the murder of teammates? All of them had always been money-hungry bastards (the last 3 heists had proven that), but they had been money hungry bastards together, as cliché as that sounded. Was Michael really that desperate for money that he had forgotten about their past together? How they were friends before either had even heard of Fake AH Crew? How Michael had been the one to convince Ray to join Geoff’s crew in the first place? How, that one time, they had robbed a store dressed as Iron Man and Captain America for no reason what so ever beside being high as fuck, and then somehow got suckered into visiting a children’s hospital the same day by some random woman after they had dropped off the goods? Had Michael even taken that into account, or had he been blinded by the idea of big bucks?

And what of Geoff? Did he think nothing of Ray and Ryan? Were they just dirt to him, easily thrown to the side and forgotten? They were usually the only people to actually get hits on people, for fuck’s sake! Was he willingly going along with Michael, or was he being forced by him?

His head was spinning as question after question flew past his mind. He pounded his fist into the desk- violence usually helped him clear his head. A few more punches and his mind was cleared.

He glanced up at the clock; just about 40 minutes wasted looking for some stupid receipt. Sighing, he pressed a finger to his earpiece and spoke.

“Hey Ryan, I found it. Right where you said it’d be.”

He couldn’t see him, but he knew Ryan was grinning.

“Excellent, meet me by the clothing store so we can finish up shopping.”

Ray sighed again, feeling suddenly drained, before standing up and walking out of the office.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_

When he got out of the office, his earpiece buzzed to life again.

“You there Ray?” Ryan asked. His voice was louder than everyone else’s voices.

“This a private channel?”

“Yep.”

Ray was silent for a moment, before he asked the one thing that had been on his mind since the start. “Why are you even including me in this plan?”

This time it was Ryan who fell silent. When he replied, he didn’t sound like the crazed psychopath he knew.

“I knew it was only time before one of you double crossed me. I’m not like most of you guys; my methods are arguable different, my mindset is different, and I’ve been doing this for longer. I still don’t know how Geoff managed to convince me to join Fake AH Crew in the first place.

“I was a later comer, so their betrayal doesn’t bother me. But you- you’ve been here since the beginning. You’re the one that got hit the hardest by this… and I feel like you don’t deserve that.”

Ray tripped on an uneven piece of sidewalk, but he ignored that. His mind was still reeling on what Ryan had said.

“Huh, never knew the Mad King had a heart,” he joked.

A snort from Ryan’s side. “Well, a king must take care of his subjects.”

“I don’t ever remember joining your court!”

“Hey, I’m the Mad King, I do whatever the fuck I want.”

Ray burst into unsuspected laughter, startling some people on his left.

“Okay, okay. You got me there. Meet you by the clothing store on Liberty Street?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Ryan said. He abruptly cut the private channel, causing the rest of the crew’s voices to fill his ears.

“Ray… Ray! Hurry the fuck up, Ray!” Michael said impatiently.

“I’m coming,” he replied, picking up his pace, “Traffic’s being a bitch.”

_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Michael’s chest was heaving and his brain was going a mile a minute. He couldn’t hear his crew over the sound of the bank’s alarms and the gunfire. Yet, as he ran out into the street, money in hand, Gavin behind him, he couldn’t help his smile and slightly crazed laugh as he yelled, “I got the money! Go, go, go!”

The radios were then filled with a flurry of overlapping voices as both Michael and Gavin sprinted toward the alley. Michael belatedly noticed that there were bills flying out of the top of the bag every so often, but that was his last priority when he was dodging bullets.

“Hey assholes, we’re being shot down here!” he shorted into the mic.

Ryan grunted, “Try holding off all these cops, then go ahead and yell at us.”

“Mmm, I would, but I’m holding our paycheck and am trying to keep our other half alive,” he said, looked pointedly over to Gavin, who sputtered in protest.

The heist leader ignored the background noise that was being transmitted and picked up his pace. When he and Gavin reached the tanks, Michael quickly climbed on and popped one open. He lowered himself in, thankful that Gavin was also doing the same.

“Okay, we’re in the tanks! We’re in the tanks!” Michael yelled, powering up the piece of machinery.

“How much did you get?” Gavin asked.

Michael smiled again, “Enough to buy you all the douchey sunglasses you want, Gavin.”

“That’s great,” Ryan said. The sound of gunfire from his mic was gone and replaced with the roaring sound of wind.

“Fuckers made it out safely,” Michael thought to himself as he blew up a police car, “fuck.”

Ray cut in, “R & R connection is evading the cops.”

Michael nodded to himself, mentally going over the plan to himself. “Good, just make it to the air strip quickly. We don’t want to wait for you two forever.”

Ryan made a noncommittal noise as Ray said, “Gotcha boss-man.”

Geoff cut in, yelling over the whirr of the helicopter blades. “Remember you two, I paid a shit ton of money to armor that car for you, so when you get there, don’t destroy it.”

“Got it Geoff,” Ryan said, “Over and out.”

Inside the helicopter, Kerry muted his headset for a moment, willing his nerves to calm down. Geoff suddenly sitting shotgun did not help at all.

Kerry cleared his throat, eyes staying on the sky as he tried to keep the mood light, “You do realize you’re never getting that car back, right?”

Geoff let out a short, harsh laugh, one Kerry wasn’t expecting, “More than you know, kid.”

_-_-_-_-_-_-_

Sweat dripped down Ray’s neck as they rode over yet another hill. He glanced up at the sky where the sun was more than halfway across the sky. Had it really been that long since they had robbed the bank? Since he hacked into the car shop and found the ignition bomb?

He was pulled from his thoughts as Ryan made a sharp right on to the grass. His arms tightened around the larger man’s waist instinctively.

“You’re a worse driver than Gavin!” he shouted over the roaring wind.

Ryan glanced back, smirking. “Thanks!” he yelled back, revving the motorcycle teasingly.

Grumbling, Ray shifted his hold on Ryan's waist slightly. The drive to the airport had been one of ducking in and out of alleys and under bridges, trying to evade the cops. It had been only 20 minutes ago that they had managed to get the cops on their tail. Ray still hadn't gotten over that adrenaline kick. Not to mention Ryan was an absolute speed devil on a motorcycle, given the open road.

Ray was surprised he hadn't had a heart attack with all the shit that went on today.

He looked over his partner's shoulder to see the airstrip practically in front of them. Ryan looked back at him, mask long taken off and left who knows where, and gave him a small semblance of a smile. Ray smiled back, the silent reassurance well met.

Ryan slowed the bike down as they reached the entrance to the airstrip. Ray hopped off just as Ryan cut the engine.

"Do you see where Geoff parked the car?" Ryan asked, jumping off the motor cycle.

Ray looked around, not seeing anything that would signal Geoff had been th-

Oh.

"How much do you want to bet that the bright pink truck at the very end of the runway is Geoff's?" he asked, pointing to a pink truck.

Ryan looked to where he pointed and smirked. "Typical Geoff," he mumbled. Then to Ray, "Bet you ten bucks it's actually magenta."

"Screw the color," Ray said, starting to walk toward the car, "we're blowing it sky hi-"

He was cut off by Ryan's hand covering his mouth from behind.

"Shh! I don't trust these headsets, even if they are muted now," Ryan hissed into Ray's ear, "if you need to say something about... that, use your phone. Got it?"  
Ray nodded, suddenly scared out of his mind and surprised that he hadn't pissed his pants. Working with the Mad King had taken away some of the fear Ray had had when he first heard about him, but not all of it. He was still psychotic and said and did things that made Ray question his mental state (he still has nightmares about the Edgar fiasco). Ryan slowly withdrew his hand and continued onward to the car Geoff had left for them.

Ray stared at the retreating figure for a moment before running to catch up with him.

"Creepy fucker," he mumbled.

As he caught up to Ryan he slowed down and unmuted his mic.

"R & R Connection are at the airstrip," he said calmly.

"Yeah, and Geoff, thanks for the bright-ass pink truck. Major stealth points there," Ryan chimed in.

A snicker from someone else. "What can I say, I aim to please," Geoff said.

"Focus guys, we're almost done with the heist," Michael said over the scattered giggles.

"Okay, okay. We'll get in the car and drive to the docks. Quick and simple," Ryan said, simultaneously taking out his phone. He typed something out quickly before shoving it into the Ray’s hands.

It read, "dying sounds. Blow up. Mute mic. Got it?"

Ray typed in, "wtf are dying sounds?" before handing it back.

The larger man rolled his eyes, typing something back. The phone was quickly shoved into his hands as Ryan picked up his pace. Ray looked down at the phone.  
"Just yell as loudly as you can. And get your rocket launcher ready."

He snorted, pocketing the phone as he caught up with Ryan. His partner was a safe distance back from the truck. His arms were crossed and his foot was tapping impatiently.

Ray merely grinned and said, "Shotgun!"

He pulled out his signature pink rocket launcher. Taking a knee, he positioned it as far away from his headset as he could because who knew how bugged they were. He looked to Ryan, who was jamming in orange ear plugs. With a nod of his head, Ray braced himself and fired.

The projectile flew straight and true into the pink truck. The two men shielded their eyes and turned the other way as the truck blew up, lighting up the runway and spewing large hunks of metal and rubber every which way. The small gasp that escaped his lips as he was hit with a wall of heat reminded him to scream, so he did; a piercing, blood curdling scream that was abruptly cut off by him muting the mic. As the explosion faded, he turned toward Ryan, who had managed to stay standing through the whole ordeal. He was fiddling with his head set. With a sudden snap, Ryan tugged off the severed mic and threw it toward the wreckage. He turned toward Ray, motioning toward his head.

"Want it off?" he asked.

Ray nodded, suddenly hyper aware of his headset and of the voices being transmitted through it.

"Holy shit, was that Ray and Ryan?!" he heard Michael yell.

Kerry was the one to reply. "I don't know, what happened?!"

"All I heard was an explosion,” Gavin added.

"Should we go and check on them?" Geoff asked.

"Who knows what happened to them or where they were. Looking for them would only slow us down, I say we keep going."

There were murmurs of agreement as Ryan finally managed to snap off his mic with a pair of wire cutters and electrical tape.

"Thanks," Ray said, nodding.

Ryan slipped the wire cutter back in his pocket, "No problem. Ready to get back at those bastards?"

All of Ray's lingering doubt about the plan had now fallen to the side after seeing how their friends had just completely ignored them "dying". He would've at least expected Gav to protest and try to convince the others to try to find their bodies, but he had just agreed along with the rest. They could all rot in hell for all he cared.

"Hopefully they will," his mind supplied.

Ray looked to Ryan and grinned, one more akin to the ones Ryan was famous for giving.

"Hell yeah." He looked around them, and then asked, "So, uh, you wanna hop in separate planes or one each?"

Ryan looked confused for a moment, before grinning back. "I like how you think. I was thinking about just stealing a car, but your idea is much better. Let's get one each."

Ray nodded, before running to the hanger. He had seen a bright yellow plane before that totally had his name on it.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_

It was dusk by the time the two reached the beach. They parked their planes in some nearby woods (much to Ryan's disappointment) and walked the rest of the way to the beach. The beach was pretty much deserted.

"Hey," Ray said as they started to reach the water’s edge. He tugged on Ryan's sleeve, pointing to the lone figure on the beach, "Isn't that Lindsay?"

Ryan squinted into the dusk then grinned, placing a hand of Ray's shoulder. "Nice eyes. Keep an eye and ear on them. I'll take care of her.”

Ray nodded, bringing his attention to the four figures on the boats.

"There's an audience of people here."

Ray crouched lower behind the rock.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ryan come from behind Lindsay, knife in hand.

"So should we jump in your boat?"

She stiffened as the man brought the knife to her throat.

"Guys, I just wanna say I really enjoyed this."

Ryan bent down to speak into her ear.

"Sit down Kerry."

Her entire body was shaking as she dropped something relatively small into his left hand. His thumb pressed the side of the object. Seconds later, a stray boat, not unlike the one Geoff, Kerry, Gavin and Michael were currently in, blew up.

"Whoa! What the fuck was that?"

"Is someone trying to kill us?"

Ryan's hand ripped across her throat and she fell down, lifeless on the beach.

"Gavin," Michael sighed, pulling out his automatic, "It all went to shit."

Ray could see his silhouette point at Geoff. "No! It didn't go to shit cause we're all still ali-" Geoff's body slumped over the wheel as Michael started firing at Kerry.

Ray diverted his eyes from the drama on the boat, to Ryan who was now standing next to him.

He motioned with his head to the sea. "Geoff and Kerry are dead," he said.

Ryan smirked, holding up his knife, "So's Lindsay."

Ray nodded, tuning out Michael explaining the real heist to Gavin, who was still in the water. "So do we snipe them from here or...?"

"Nah, they deserve something up close and personal," Ryan grinned, "C'mon, there are water skis over here."

Ray followed behind him, automatic out and ready. He grabbed a green one and got it into the water.

Ryan looked over to the Puerto Rican. "I get Michael. You take care of Gavin."

Ray nodded and sped onward.

"Lindsay, you wanna come out here?" Michael said. Gavin's laughter came out tinny and static filled, but stopped abruptly.

"Hey Michael, why are there two water skis coming toward us?"

Michael was silent for a minute before the realization hit him.

"Those sons of bitches," he whispered.

At that, Ray grabbed his pistol and started firing at the boat. He heard bullets fly pas him as Ryan started to do the same. Gavin's squawking could be heard through the headpiece as Michael snapped out of his reverie and he and Gavin started to fire at them.

"You sons of bitches should be dead!" Michael yelled.

Ray ignored him. He encircled the boat, firing straight at Gavin. It was growing dark fast, but Ray smirked when Gavin's silhouette jerked to the side and he went down on the boat's dashboard.

"GAVIN NO!" Michael screamed, turning his head to look at Gavin.

Ryan took that opportunity to forgo the water ski and climb straight onto the boat. Ray stayed on the water, not moving except to compensate for the waves moving him.

Michael was hunched over Gavin’s body, seeing whether he was alive or not. Ryan stood directly over him, gun pointed at his chest.

Suddenly, Michael got up at his feet and lunged at Ryan, knife in hand, screaming. He had the advantage of close quarters and agility, but Ryan had the advantage of not being alone. Ray put one, two bullets in Michael’s leg, one above the kneecap, one below. He fell down just as fast as he had gotten up.

Ray could see his body shaking from his vantage point. He swallowed down any instincts to help him. Things were different now.

Michael took in a few deep breaths, but the pain was still evident in his voice as he said, "The money's in the back. Take it all."

Ray could only imagine the maniacal smile Ryan had on his face. "Oh Michael, I'm afraid you've made this heist a lot bigger than couple thousand dollars. Besides, I think you put it best."

Michael let out a small whimper as Ryan shoved the nozzle of his gun at his head.

"The only thing that will kill us, is each other."

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is always appreciated, as well as general comments ^.^


End file.
